Shattered
by antoinettelexington
Summary: Antoinette is leaving Elrond, lord of Rivendell, to become the new queen of Mirkwood. She has fallen under the charms of Thranduil who has now claimed her as his bride. ElrondxOCxThranduil oneshot OOC Elrond


"The water flowed like veins down the mountain, and at her guard stood warriors of stone, marred by weather to create blank faces and dull swords. They never hesitated though, and became the entrance to our kingdom, into our land..."  
Elrond's voice fell quieter, mind lost to memories and what had once been. He could see it vividly and in a blur all at once, a faint image remained and the more he tried to focus on a single detail, the more the entire picture blurred. It was a hazy picture but it would never go away.  
The thin brush dipped into blue and white, swirling to mix the paints together. It dabbed slowly against the top of the canvas, on the grey and white mountain. It streaked blue in downwards lines mingling and mixing. At the top the artist drew two figures of grey, larger than the other buildings, much like the Gates of Argonath.  
Elrond glanced down at the artist who was biting their lower lip in concentration, brow furrowing. Blond hair was done in messy braids which Elrond was half-tempted to fix himself. Paint smeared the pale skin of the young child, and once their quick smear of paint was done, they looked back up at the Lord of Rivendell. They came for a story, to see for how long the Lord could tell of his past in that rich accent. The elf giggled each time the elder said 'Mordor' or any other words which as stressed and contained those rolled 'r's.  
"A nexus of bridges merged with the trees of old. The tops of buildings stood like spears towards the sky. One cliff stood jagged out like a flaw, yet was encompassed by architect, making the entire area a pavilion. It was the centre of festivals and meetings, never unattended..."  
Elrond could still faintly taste the wine at those festivals, a wine no longer made from land being destroyed by wars and never rebuilt or regrown. It was so sweet and heavy, and he had been a young elf pinned by a few then. The wine made that ever so clear at times...  
"I'm done! Look, look."  
Elrond skillfully sidestepped the paint smeared hands trying to grab him to pull him closer. He stepped behind the elf, the picture itself a indiscernible mess of colour, many parts mixed together to make dark greys and blacks.  
Before the young child could ask if the painting was good, they bowed their head. Their fingers intertwined and fidgeted through nervousness, now self-conscious. The elf felt Elrond's steady hand against his shoulder, and he looked up at the regal lord.  
"Very beautiful, my young prince of Mirkwood."  
Legolas beamed, a large smile brightening the room and eyes becoming joyful. Legolas stood up quickly, causing Elrond's hand to slip from his shoulder. He then took the painting, still wet and very large compared to his lithe form, and ran out of the room with a shrill, childish cry of "Ada, come see what I did. Ella, Elro, come and see!"  
Elrond let his gaze waver briefly on the ground covered in paint before turning at hearing a light footstep. His lips turned upwards slightly as he saw white silk and thin braids adorning my hair, a thin and curlicue silver band over my hair.  
Elrond made a motion for me to enter his study which I did not deny. He picked up two glass goblets, pale red swirling around and letting out a sweet aroma. He held one out for me which I took by the stem and let the taste fall on my tongue. Light and sweet, the drink of summer around Imladris.  
"Time changes everybody, especially us who it has more time to alter."  
I took a small sip, trying to grow used once more to the taste of the wine. It had been my favourite, a long time ago. So many things had once been perfect to me, and now it was all flawed.  
Elrond watched me from the corner of his dark grey eyes, taking a larger drink from his glass. The light wine ran more like water through him, but he did not care. He watched what he had not been able to in many, many years. Who he had once believed would never leave Imladris or him. His fingers unknowingly tightened on the stem of the glass until his fingertips became paler than usual.  
He lowered the glass onto a wooden table, fingers lightly grazing the dark oak. How often had he paced around this table as me and Erestor played chess? How often had he found one of us waiting for him here, paperwork everywhere or simply in tears? There still laid the marks of his anguish over Celebrían's death, then thin marks of a sword he raised to let go of some his anger. But it was not just that table which contained so much memories.  
"I know you, Lord Elrond, something is heavy on your mind. And it isn't just time."  
Elrond wanted to ask what had he done to deserve such a tittle. He used to be called 'my lord', but in the last two millennia unless before others, it was simply 'Elrond'. How much did I still remember of him if I did not remember the unease it put him in for me to call him that?  
"Reminiscing... Nostalgically so... I used to believe I'd spend an eternity here. With Erestor and you, Glorfindel and Arwen, Elrohir and Elladan and Celebrían... It feels like I lost everybody..."  
And in some ways, he did lose everybody. His twins were always gone, sometimes with rangers of hunting orcs. Arwen was in Lórien, Celebrían was dead, Glorfindel was often away, and Erestor was too busy to speak to him as of late. It felt like he no longer had friends or simply the time of day to talk. He heard Erestor mumble something about depression the other day when talking about him with Lindir. Elrond did not like to think of it that way, but perhaps he was getting too old.  
"We all must move on, Lord Elrond. Perhaps you should-"  
Elrond spun to face me, silencing me with a single heavy look. He did not want to hear such words from me, not from the single person who had always understood him. But the key word was 'had'. I was out of place here now, he should realize that. I fell absolutely silent as Elrond picked up his wine glass once more and finished it off in a manner he only did if he was truly upset. He then put as much distance between me and himself as he could, leaning against the balcony. The wind rushed past his dark hair, mixing and tangling it but he didn't care. Outside, where people could see him, he had to put on a brave face. If he went back in that room he may start to cry, he could taste the salt on his lips already.  
"Nada!"  
"Meleth nín."  
Elrond managed to turn his head enough to see Legolas smiling at me and grabbing my hand. His father, Thranduil, had his arm around my waist, smiling at me sincerely, hair almost looking white in the sunlight.  
Elrond's fingers quivered, and he gripped the banister to keep himself upright. He heard and spoke senseless and pointless greetings back and forth with the Mirkwood royal family which contained me now as its queen.  
He didn't let anything show until a familiar ebonh-haired elf walked to his side. Elrond's body then sagged as tears filled his eyes, tracing down his cheeks in a way that had not been done since Celebrían's death.  
"I thought I had an eternity with her. I didn't expect him to take her away from me. Everyone is leaving me..."  
Elrond's voice sounded shaky at the end, desperate in a way Erestor had never heard before. He took his lord's hand and held it firmly, determination in his dark as the night eyes.  
"I will never leave you. That's a promise."  
Elrond merely hugged his councillor, crying into his shoulder because those were the exact words someone had used before on him. What multiple people have said to him. And they had all lied.  
So he clung to Erestor tighter, wishing to Valar that at least this one elf would not leave him. That they could spend their remaining eternity together.


End file.
